


Spacious 4 Bed With A Room For 1 More

by Linane



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Humour, Image-Inspired, M/M, Modern AU, They are just being little idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 10:51:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16283213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linane/pseuds/Linane
Summary: 1 house, 1 entirely professional real estate agent, 1 very keen buyer.





	Spacious 4 Bed With A Room For 1 More

**Author's Note:**

  * For [isisanubis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isisanubis/gifts).



> This is a gift work for the lovely Hawkguyhasstarbucks on Tumblr. I blame you for _so many things_ right now.

 

The house was beautiful.

Located on top of a leafy hill, at the end of a quiet road, it commanded unparalleled views of the city below. It was old – white paint outside peeling off here and there – but clearly well-loved over the years and kept in good repair.

It was funny, almost – Fili used to drive past the house on his way to work every day for as long as he could remember. If he could have any house, anywhere, it would have been _that_ one.

Constantly window-shopping for houses was one of the little quirks of being a real estate agent.

When the house first came on the market, at a very attractive price no less, Fili knew it would be a difficult sale, for him personally. He’d sold other houses he liked over the years, but this house was _special_.

He loved that house.

Still, they were the closest real estate agent and Fili really wanted to see the inside, so he made some enquiries and less than a week later, he was taking his first prospective buyers around his dream home.

 

\---

 

The first two couples weren’t really interested. The area wasn’t posh enough, schools weren’t prestigious enough, but it was a lot of a house for the money so they felt obliged to check it out anyway.

Fili knew immediately, having arrived to see them milling about aimlessly in front of it. He took them round all the same, was polite and informative throughout and waved each of them goodbye less than half an hour later.

 

\---

 

The next guy was a prick.

Fancy sports car, fancy sunglasses, fancy interior decoration ideas.

Within the first five minutes he was talking about putting in a sunk fire pit in the middle of the living room, knocking down walls to put in a conservatory and chopping down all of the slightly overgrown garden to put in a 3-car garage and a pool. He had the money to do it too.

Fili narrowed his eyes and unconsciously stroke an architrave in a soothing gesture.

“I suppose in the interest of fairness, I should mention the drain problems,” he pointed out pleasantly.

“Drain problems?”

“Yeah, the upstairs bathroom especially. It’s fine at the moment, but we think some water and sewage damage is unavoidable if it’s in use again. The guttering could do with replacing too.”

“Oh.”

“And some of the decorative mouldings by the ceiling will need to be restored of course. Not to put you off or anything, but please don’t stand too close to the walls, just in case.” Fili gave one of the walls a gentle prod with his foot and was rewarded with a small piece of plaster failing down to the floor.

They both stared at the little crumbled bit.

“How much do you think it might cost to restore?”

“I’m not sure, but I can certainly approach the executors of the will to get the valuation –“

“Executors of the will?!”

“Oh, yes. Did I forget to mention? The previous owners died, rather abruptly.” _In a car accident, many, many miles away from the house_ – Fili thought, but didn’t feel the need to voice the details of the story. Somehow, it gave the house more of a reputation.

The guy cleared in the next five minutes.

Fili was very disappointed to have lost such a promising client, only his face was flashing dimples at the restored peace and quiet of the building around him.

 

\---

 

After that, it became a bit of a thing.

It wasn’t that nobody was good enough for the house; it was just that none of them looked invested enough to be able to see it for the beautiful structure that it was.

There was a nice enough young woman who was keen, but couldn’t afford and wasn’t skilled enough to do the repairs the house needed.

Then there was a couple with 7 children, varying ages and varying degrees of destructive powers. Fili removed one of the younger ones from the banister and mentioned the heating bills, what with the house being so exposed on top of the hill.

Then a couple more people just browsing, rather than really interested in buying.

Then there was a guy, twice Fili’s size, three times the size of Fili’s shoulders, who rolled up in a monster truck modified to look like a wolf. He had scar tattoos, or maybe just scars and wanted to know if the woods downhill from the house were up for sale as well.

They weren’t. The guy left among the barrage of verbal abuse about their website not being clear enough on the details and Fili never felt quite so relieved to be able to close his door behind him.

Not _his_ door. _The_ door. The door of the house.

After that Fili lost track.

He would drive up to the house sometimes in the evenings and stroll through the hallways and rooms painted golden by the setting sun, forever discovering some new beautiful detail he somehow missed before. He’d touch the ornate door handles, run his fingers over the scuffed woodwork and spend some time working out which of the stairs creaked.

It was… _research_ , he told himself. So he could be more informative for his clients. In truth, he just _liked_ staying in the house. A lot.

He felt at home here.

 

\---

 

Fili’s own living arrangements were far from ideal.

He was renting a room in a house with a living-in landlord. Dirt-cheap too, which was the only way he was managing to put aside some savings.

The house looked like it came from a catalogue. A very, very trendy one.

Stylish. Lots of clean, brushed steel, utilitarian concrete, and glass twisted into modernist chandeliers, which looked like they belonged in a contemporary art gallery. Expensive woods from exotic corners of the world, sculptures illuminated with discreet spotlights and houseplants in giant pots under the double- and triple- height ceilings.

All of it was immaculate. Always. Maintained by a small army of cleaners, servants and gardeners.

It certainly had the _wow factor_ , which initially really appealed to Fili.

Except this much style came with a number of caveats.

No pets. No smoking. No parties, no music, no visitors, _absolutely no visitors_ staying the night. No eating in his room and no drying laundry inside the house, not even when it was raining. Fili’s beloved violin was also banned. No heavy books on any of the shelves, so he ended up with stacks of them piled on the floor. No liquids anywhere outside the kitchen, and he was required to wear soft slippers at all times.

He was also obliged to carry out a daily ‘perimeter check’ at 9:30, to make sure that all of the property was secured, followed by a curfew at 10:00, when the door and gates were locked.

Thranduil, his landlord, was a bit of a security freak.

It had been a schoolboy error: if something sounded too good to be true, it probably was. As a real estate agent, he really should have known better.

And now Fili was tied up into a 12-month contract with an early-termination penalty clause.

So he persevered.

He usually arrived from work, had a quick bite to eat and curled up in the corner of a massive, cold, leather sofa with a book or his laptop, until it was time for bed.

Sometimes, just sometimes, if he could be sure that Thranduil wasn’t around, Fili took off his slippers and popped his feet on top of the coffee table. It was probably a cardinal sin, but it gave Fili immeasurable satisfaction.

Compared to all this, the house on the hill, with its unregimented clutter, overgrown garden and big windows allowing lots of light, seemed like a dream.

 

\---

 

When after 4 months the house still hasn’t sold, Fili’s boss was starting to regret his decision.

Balin was a sensible man, who had been in the business much longer than Fili was alive. Long enough to know that _anything_ could be sold inside 4 months, with enough subtle selling techniques.

“It’s not my fault. It’s almost like it’s cursed!” Fili told him, all wide blue eyes and utter innocence. When in doubt, go cocky and go outrageous. It usually worked, too.

Not with Balin though.

Balin just gave him an unimpressed once-over and said: “sell the house, Fili. And sell it soon.”

So that evening Fili went over his numbers one more time. The obvious solution would be to buy the house himself, but contrary to the popular belief, the real estate agents were hardly loaded, especially not the ones working for a little, family-ran place. Not to mention that Fili still had his student loans to pay, which regularly ate into whatever little savings he’d managed to put aside over the years.

The house was attractive in price to begin with, and it had been reduced further when it didn’t sell after 3 months, but all in all Fili had less than half of what he needed.

It would never be cheap enough for him to be able to afford it.

There was nothing for it: he had to either win the lottery, and fast, or he had to sell it to someone who would love the house as much as Fili did.

 

\---

 

Fili’s next client rocked up in dungarees and a pair of mud-covered Wellies.

Fili scrunched up his nose, but made sure to do so outside of the guy’s field of vision. He was about to politely suggest that the client remove the Wellies in the interest of protecting the floors, but the guy was already on it, hopping around in front of the porch, trying to yank the first boot off.

“Sorry. I came straight from work and I have to go back after to finish another little job, so I’m not really dressed for the occasion,” the guy looked apologetic. His name was Kili, and Fili had to hide a smile at how much their names seemed to match.

“That’s no problem,” Fili assured him pleasantly. He wordlessly helped stabilise him, received a blinding smile for his trouble, and then watched, astonished, as his client took two steps at a time to clamber inside, socks and all.

Once you looked past the overalls, the mud and hair which appeared to have been literally dragged through a hedge, Kili looked dangerously handsome, all dark and long-limbed, with eyes that captivated anyone they settled on.

Not that Fili would know. He was a professional, not at all interested in his client’s broad back, somehow emphasised by the straps of his dungarees.

Inside, it was less of a house tour and more of a _house chase_ , as the enthusiastic young man tried to peer in every cupboard and check out what was behind the next door and the next, and upstairs and –

He even insisted on climbing into the loft, staying there a good couple of minutes, muttering to himself softly. When he re-appeared again, he was covered in dust, but he was grinning again.

“Structurally, it’s in great shape! I was wondering, since the price is really low. I studied architecture, you see, so I can tell, though actually I’m a gardener now. I started a small company while still at uni and it seemed to just… take off. I don’t really understand any of it, I just like plants, but apparently it’s doing really well and I’ve wanted a place of my own for a while now.”

“That’s…” Fili tried to process the avalanche of words, “- impressive.”

“Anyway, the house doesn’t need any serious work, just a bit of TLC! Oh, and there’s a load of personal stuff up there – Christmas decorations and the like – I assume left by the previous owners.”

“There – What?” Fili kicked himself mentally for having visited the house so often, but never once ventured into the loft. “We’ll make sure it’s all removed for you of course,” he smiled, effortlessly finding his confidence once more. “Thank you for bringing it to my attention.”

Next, Kili wanted to see the garden, by which he meant _getting right in it_ , all the way to the overgrown back, poking at the plants and eyeing the trees, which was an absolute first in Fili’s career.

Eventually Fili had to all but herd him into the kitchen, which at least had the benefit of only having one entry and exit point.

“So. What do you think?” he asked, leaning casually against the lovely vintage cooker, stroking the cream enamel affectionately.

“It’s beautiful,” Kili breathed, his eyes suddenly huge, very amber, and fixed right on Fili. “I never thought I could afford something this big and in such an amazing spot, but the price really _is_ most attractive. Makes you wonder why it hasn’t sold already. How long did you say it’s been on the market?”

 _I didn’t_ , Fili thought, feeling like something in his chest was giving way. “Just over 5 months.”

“Oh.” Kili stared.

“The neighbours say it’s haunted,” Fili pointed out casually, in one final attempt to keep the house all to himself. He had lots and lots of time to come up with an impressive catalogue of various niggles and at this point it was a bit of a game, seeing just how far Fili could push his luck. It was amazing what people believed sometimes.

Kili actually snorted. “Nonsense. It _feels_ amazing. Like it wants to be lived in. I love it!”

 _Oh_ , Fili thought, looked away. “Good. It needs loving. Someone to look after it,” he muttered.

“I’ll take it.”

“You – what?!”

“I’d like to buy it. I can meet the full asking price and I have no chain. Please?”

He looked a bit like a kicked puppy in that moment, uncertain but invested, like he might cry if Fili was to tell him ‘no’.

Except Fili, of course, wasn’t the owner; he was just the estate agent.

Currently failing spectacularly at his own job. “Certainly! Are you sure though? Don’t you want to come back for a second viewing first? Most people –“

“I’m sure. I just don’t want to lose it, now that I found it.” His eyes locked with Fili’s again. “It really feels rather special to me.”

Fili smiled. “I know exactly what you mean. It just feels so _right_ , doesn’t it?”

“It does. I love the light. How it catches in – ah, everything. How it’s so casual. I love your smi – small. How the – the – knobs. Are so small. On that cooker. Um…”

Kili squirmed.

Fili blinked, then looked to the knobs on the cooker. They were enormous.

Kili tried to scratch his ankle with his other socked foot.

Fili carefully put the odd little sentence to one side. “Truth be told, it’s a shame I can’t buy it myself. It’s sort of my dream home – I’d love to live here,” he admitted instead.

“So move in!”

Fili blinked again.

“Um… as a housemate, I mean. After I buy it. It’s meant to be a family home, it will be big just for me. And it needs doing up a little. I could use some help. I’d give you six months completely rent-free.”

Fili’s first thought was that six months rent-free would be a big bump to his savings. It would have been a dream: the house, doing it up, Kili… There was something _easy_ about him and even though Fili had known him less than an hour, his instinct told him that it would have been _good_.

It would have been wonderful.

But Fili was a professional and he just sold the house he’d been sitting on for months.

“That’s a very kind offer, but I’m afraid I must decline,” he said forcing the words past the lump in his throat. “I already have fixed accommodation arrangements.”

“Oh. Of course you do.” Kili sent him a smile, but it was nothing like his previous grins. “Ignore me. So… can I place an offer with you?”

Fili slipped his mobile out of his pocket. “Absolutely.”

Somehow, they both left that day feeling accomplished, but not at all happy.

 

\---

 

The house sale went through within 6 weeks and Fili went back to eyeing it longingly on his way to work.

Perhaps one day Kili would want something bigger, or in another location. Perhaps by then Fili would have saved enough to buy it from him.

At least the house was in the hands of someone who would take good care of it.

At least someone was happy living there.

 

\---

 

It was over 2 months after the fateful viewing on the house.

Fili had a late viewing with a client on the other side of the city, which meant that it wasn't until 9 p.m. that he was coming back home.

Except home wasn't home anymore, apparently.

He discovered the boxes full of his stuff outside the gate. It was a minor miracle that nothing was missing - his laptop was right there in one of those boxes, all of his books, his violin... To make matters worse, the sky looked heavily overcast - it could start raining any minute.

“Asshole,” Fili muttered emphatically, and started hastily moving the boxes into the boot of his car.

His key no longer worked. Obviously.

Some furious pounding on the gate eventually resulted in a brief visit from a member of household staff.

“He's found another tenant,” she said and passed him a document on the official Thranduil stationery (who had official personalised stationery in this day and age?!), which dissolved Fili's contract with immediate effect, crucially releasing him from his early-termination clause. “She's a security expert and she’ll be checking all the systems as a part of the deal. He had us pack all your stuff in the afternoon. I'm sorry, Fili.”

In the window of his old room a girl with fierce red hair stared towards the gate, looking apprehensive.

Fili wished her all the luck in the world. She was going to need it.

 

\---

 

He decided to spend the night in his car.

Fili could have of course let himself into the office and grabbed the keys to one of their unoccupied rental properties. He could have called Balin and agreed some short-term rental then and there. He could have called his parents and stayed with them for a few days, except they lived on the opposite end of the city.

But by then Fili was, frankly, just fed up with everything and wanted some shut-eye.

It wasn’t at all his rebellious streak (which many people assumed didn’t exist) or the sheer stubborn petulance.

Later, he wouldn't exactly be able to explain how his driving took him to the leafy suburb with the house. He only knew that the awkward offer kept rattling around in his head, alongside the odd, indescribable feeling of happiness and a sense of belonging he felt in that moment.

He parked at the end of the road.

He felt like a stalker.

At least the light was on, so Kili was home.

Fili bit his lip, checked the time. It was close to midnight - not quite an appropriate time for a casual social call.

He wouldn’t come knocking in the middle of the night. He had manners.

Besides, he needed time to cool off, think this through. He'd see how he felt about the whole idea in the morning.

 

\---

 

In the morning Fili felt awful.

He didn't sleep very well at all - he had a twinge in his back and his feet felt like ice. The image in the rear-view mirror looked positively rumpled.

To make things worse, his phone battery died in the night, so he couldn't even call Kili to give him the heads up and ask if the offer still stood. There was every chance that Kili found someone else.

In the end there was nothing for it but to put his tail between his legs, grab the box with his laptop and drag himself towards the entrance to the house.

He rang the bell.

There was a noise inside and then the door opened, revealing the familiar dishevelled head full of hair and the rest of Kili, clad in comfy-looking track suit bottoms and a white t-shirt.

“You!” Kili fired, in place of the more customary ‘hello’.

“Me,” Fili agreed, bemused. Then he decided to just go for it: “So about that offer…”

 

\---

 

“Would you like some tea? Please, sit down. No, not there! That’s full of stuff. Sorry, I’ve only moved in a few days ago and everything is still in boxes. And sort of… everywhere. Sit here. Let’s just put your box down.”

“A tea would be lovely, thank you.” Fili sat, by now used to Kili’s unique, all-encompassing way of talking.

For a while the dishes clanked, the kettle rumbled and Kili moved among all that trademark chaos which seemed to just naturally surround him, and then a mug was pressed into Fili’s hands. Full of hot chocolate. With little marshmallows piled on top.

Kili shrugged. “You look like you need it.”

Fili buried his nose in the sweet smell, luxuriated in the warmth from the mug radiating into his cold fingers. He took a heavenly sip and decided that Kili was right – he needed it. No point refusing what was freely offered.

“So… what happened? Tell me everything,” Kili demanded, pulling up a stool to sit in front of him, well into Fili’s personal space.

Fili did, watching Kili’s expression gradually brew into an impressive, perfect storm.

“Asshole!” Kili swore emphatically and stood abruptly, causing a private little smirk from Fili. “He can’t do that! Can he?!”

Fili considered. “I suppose if I was really determined I could sue him for breach of contract, since a notice period had been written into it. But then I’d have to prove that he hadn’t given me verbal notice, since the format wasn’t specified.”

Kili huffed, collected the now-empty mug and turned to the hob, where a small-scale operation was rapidly taking shape.

“I just don’t understand how you can be so calm about it! I’d be fuming, if it was me,” he rattled, breaking 4 eggs into a large frying pan. “He had no right to touch your personal stuff and if it had started to rain, I’d definitely be suing for property damage.” Beans landed in a pan, got stirred in with some salt and pepper. “It’s just a shame that you aren’t his estate agent –“

Fili moved to lean against the fridge, where he’d have a better view of hurricane Kili, then casually helped himself to a piece of toast, which just pinged ready in the toaster next to him.

“- or you could at least make sure that he doesn’t get any more tenants ever again!” Bacon was placed under a hot grill, almost instantly exuding a mouth-watering smell. “Bacon,” Kili observed intelligently. “I’m sorry, you could be vegetarian! Are you a vegetarian?”

“I’m not a vegetarian.”

“Right. Good.”

“Kili.” Fili watched the tips of the younger man’s ears turn a curious shade of pink. “I need to know if you’re still looking for a housemate. Because if you’re not, then I’d rather get out of your hair,” he gently tried to rein him in.

Wide brown eyes met amused blue.

“Of course! I’d love to have you as my housemate. I mean _a_ housemate. Any of them. I’d like to have you _specifically_ the normal amount. Um…” Kili stirred his beans furiously. “I thought you could pick out your bedroom after breakfast.”

Fili tilted his head, took in the casual kindness, a bit of fluster and the cheerful energy coming off the other man in waves. “I’d love that,” he said eventually.

Then he smiled, felt something stir pleasantly in his chest when presented with a delighted expression, and helpfully re-filled the toaster with more bread.

 

\---

 

Fili took a whole month off. He never took any annual leave, so he was probably due.

Besides, the house deserved his undivided attention.

It was turning out to be as loveable as Fili always thought it might be. He sanded, scrubbed, painted, cleaned, moved things around and with each exhausting day felt himself relax more and more. He didn’t know how much he needed it, how rewarding and enjoyable he’d find it.

Kili was turning out to be quite loveable too. He was one of the few people who Fili just seemed to _click_ with, especially once he’d gotten over the rather adorable shock of having successfully talked Fili into moving in then and there on that first day. He was funny, kind, thoughtful and hard-working and Fili found that they rounded each other off extremely well.

He was also great fun when gently teased.

Fili patiently peeled another piece of old wallpaper and watched Kili rush past him and outside, hauling a bucket full of hot water, tip of his tongue sticking out in an effort not to spill any.

He smiled to himself and quietly contemplated the happiness which seemed to have moved in somewhere under his ribs and made a home there.

 

\---

 

“Sorry I’m late! I got us Chinese from the place down the road. I hope you don’t mind!”

Fili looked up from where he was finally replacing the strings on his violin just in time to move it out of the way of a bulging carrier bag being deposited on the 3 boxes pushed together, which they were temporarily using as a coffee table.

“Not at all,” he assured, putting the violin to one side and diving in to check out the various containers.

“I was too knackered to even think about making food today. They had us moving the water pond. It took _hours_ to dig another one just twenty feet to the right, and then hours _again_ to fill in the old one. You have no idea just how heavy the wet water lily planters are. I probably stink like a swamp,” Kili rambled on familiarly, while Fili zeroed in on the shredded sweet chilli beef.

Their arrangement was a simple one: they cooked on alternating days, because it was easier to manage the quantities for 2 people at a time. They cleaned together once a week. The ongoing house restoration continued to be a joint effort.

Those were the only house rules they had.

“You’re alright. All I’m getting is the smell of the sauce,” Fili grinned, his face buried in a box.

Kili eyed him and gave up on putting things away like a grown up person, flopping down to the floor instead and reaching out for a container of his own.

And then he spotted the violin.

“You play?!”

“A little,” Fili admitted, watching the wide, brown eyes. “Haven’t had the chance in a very long while, so I’m probably all out of practice.”

“Would you play for me? I mean… if you like. Sometime. Maybe.”

Fili smiled. “Eat now, play later,” he decided. “And you’re definitely taking a shower first – I just got a whiff of the bog.”

 

\---

 

They were sprawled side by side on a swinging garden bench, which took them all morning to put together.

Fili watched the white, fluffy clouds roll gently across the bright blue skies and thought about the future.

“It’ll be time for me to start paying you rent next week,” he gently prompted.

“But you’re still helping!” Kili protested. “We need to clean the porch roof and the garden is still a mess and –“

“I was going to carry on with the repairs. It’s only fair: I live here too.”

“Oh.”

“But a deal is a deal.”

“Right.”

“Kili?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you unhappy?”

“I’m not unhappy! What makes you think that I’m unhappy?!”

“You’re communicating in mono-syllables.”

Kili sighed, looked away. “I just… I guess I got used to you. Um… here. In this house. Which is technically mine, because you sold it to me, but sometimes it just feels like – And I know you’re not suggesting moving out or anything. It’s just that it’s so easy with you. _You_ more so than other people. And I forget. Because it _feels_ like –“

“More,” Fili’s mouth said, bypassing his brain, and it probably picked that particular quirk from Kili.

Blue eyes met brown, held them.

“Yeah…”

He leaned in slow and hovered a single breath away so Kili could slap him or push him away if he chose to.

Kili met him half-way.

And then Fili felt a tentative hand cradling his jaw, fingertips tracing the shell of his ear and he knew they would be okay.

 

\---

 

_6 months later._

 

Fili promised himself for the hundredth time that they’d get some blackout curtains. The current ones regularly conspired with the early morning rays to betray Fili when he was at his most vulnerable.

He huffed, rolled over away from the supernova to the right, grabbed at the warm body he found.

“Mornin’ housemate,” the body rumbled in a very confusing, cheerful yet husky voice.

“Hnn.”

It was sort of their thing. A term of endearment. A nickname almost, like other people’s ‘honeys’, ‘babies’ and ‘sweetie pies’.

For the first week they tried alternating which bedroom they slept in. What with there being four, three of them liveable, there was indeed some choice and thorough testing was required.

Then Fili gave up and started consistently herding Kili towards the master bedroom.

“Technically, this means that you cease to be the housemate and become my roommate,” Kili had said then, looking delighted with his own cleverness.

“I think you’ll find,” Fili pointed out, fingers all slick and busy with eliciting all kinds of interesting noises, “that I become your bed mate. Or, as the normal people like to call it, your _partner_.”

So that became their official anniversary.

It was also the first time Fili promised himself some blackout blinds.

Next to him Kili leaned in to kiss the tip of his nose and started asking all sorts of complicated questions about breakfast.

 

\---

 

It was a Wednesday, a few days later, and Fili’s bed was woefully lacking in Kili.

He groaned dramatically at the sheer unfairness of the world, flopped over to his back and idly scratched at his belly.

It was just after 9 when he finally decided that re-joining the rest of humanity couldn’t be put off any longer.

He curled his toes in the new carpet they recently laid down the stairs and slowly made his way into the kitchen.

Which was empty.

Instead there was a seedling sitting innocently right next to the kettle, pressed, along with some soil into a yoghurt pot. It hadn’t even been rinsed, Fili observed, shook his head, picked the improvised planter to peer at it closer.

“I name thee: ‘a Tenner’” he declared in a serious voice. Naming little seedlings was a serious affair after all. 

He’d lived with Kili long enough to know that the younger man was quite literally growing his own money. It was one of the hallmarks of Kili’s success: he never missed an opportunity to pinch out an offshoot, collect the seeds, or try to grow roots off some twig he found. It almost always worked too – that was just Kili’s own natural green fingers, topped with lots of love, care and patient attention.

When the seedling grew up, it could become a Twenty, Thirty or perhaps even a Fifty, until eventually it would be taken to one of Kili’s client’s homes and planted out in their garden.

Fili carefully placed the Tenner on the windowsill above the sink, pushing it to the front through a small crowd of other denominations already there.

It would be happy there, lapping up the warm sun.

Somehow, the plants _fitted_ the house. It needed a bit of life, a bit of outdoors brought inside. It made the place unmistakeably _Kili’s_.

Speaking of which, Fili peered outside through the kitchen window and was re-assured to spot the love of his life tackling an overgrown flower bed.

He flicked the kettle on, poured two coffees – one with milk and sugar, one just milk – and ventured outside.

“You don’t feed me, don’t water me – I’m beginning to think that you care about your plants more than you care about me,” Fili grumbled, passing one chipped mug down to Kili.

“My plants don’t talk back,” Kili grinned and pushed back up to his feet, before passing Fili a pansy plant, complete with its entire root system and soil. “Hold that for a moment.”

Fili obediently did, grateful that sipping his coffee only took one hand.

“They’ve been planted too close together, so they don’t have the space to spread around like they want to. We’ll move the spare ones to the front” Kili explained, his long arms wrapping around Fili’s waist and pulling him close for a kiss which cunningly earned him forgiveness for the lack of breakfast.

“Right.” Fili agreed, appeased.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“Not until 11. I’ve got a student house viewing at 11:30, another one at 13:00, 13:30 is the weird couple for the green house, and then I’ve got some valuations left to send off.”

“Play nice, Fee. Don’t try to out-sass the youngsters.”

“I never –“ Fili feigned outrage at the clearly unjust comment. He may or may not have succeeded a couple of times too.

Kili only kissed him again, which Fili graciously accepted as his due.

 

\---

 

“Kili? Little help!”

Fili kicked the front door closed behind him, toed off one shoe and then the other and scurried towards the kitchen before he lost control of the two large shopping bags tucked in his arms.

Silence.

Fili made it to the nearest counter before the first oranges spilled over and he had to chase them all the way to the breakfast bar. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to try and haul all of it from the car in one go.

He huffed and restrained the carrots.

Bedroom? Garden? Loft? Shed? Fili did a mental counting rhyme, trying to discern where his Kili might have been hiding.

It turned out to be the shed.

His face full of fierce concentration, Kili was just finishing etching something onto a flat slice of a tree trunk, using a soldering iron. There could be an earthquake right now and Kili wouldn’t have noticed.

He _did_ notice Fili eventually, when he crouched next to him and tried to peer over his shoulder.

Kili beamed at him and Fili’s entire world lit up. It had a habit of doing that.

“So what’s this then?” he asked curiously.

“The name plank for the house. I thought we could hang it out the front. It already feels like it has a personality of its own, so I thought it should have a name too.”

The sign was plain, but easily readable. ‘EREBOR’, it spelled, in bold, capital letters.

“Nice. What’s it mean?”

“I haven’t a clue,” Kili shrugged. “I read it in one of your Norse mythology books and I thought it sounded cool. Took me all morning to make that.”

Fili eyed him with a mixture of pride, amusement and affection, and leaned in for a slow, thorough kiss of approval.

“It will be _excellent_ for confusing the postman,” he grinned in unabashed delight and pulled Kili by the hand to hang it straight away.

 

\---


End file.
